


You're My Problem

by Jempsters



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angels vs. Demons, At the most spice, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Gay Panic, M/M, Magic, Multi, No Smut, Rivals to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jempsters/pseuds/Jempsters
Summary: As the blond glared at the other royal, his lips drew back in a snarl "Well look what the cat dragged in..." Clay gripped the hilt of his sword as he stalked towards George."And look at what the dog threw up" George retorted as he gave a strained smile to the other.≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃≃Every thousand years, a person of royal blood becomes the incarnation of a god. Just so happened that fate decided to fuck with people in the most sinister way possible.Clay Villareal and George Davidson are the incarnations of the God of Life and the God of Death. The two gods decide to drag along their rivalry, causing the two Princes to become enemies at first sight.It's such a shame that there's a prophecy that needs to be fulfilled, and there's no excuse that the two can use to avoid it.OrThe two princes George and Clay, the incarnations of two rivaling gods, are forced to put up with each other for a prophecy.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc. - Relationship, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is inspired by the Duet Mashup "I'm My Own Problem". Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> But also the reason I'm writing this is that I saw all the cool kids writing Royalty AU Fics and was like "Wait I'm an author...I CAN WRITE AS WELL-" and so we're here...no regrets.
> 
> Updates for the fic will be irregular as hell since my main focus is my first fic "Relinquish Your Justice". And also because I rarely write 1000+ word chapters, and even more, 2000+ WORD CHAPTERS- ...but updates at the minimum should be two times a week.
> 
> Leave a kudos or a comment while you're still here. They mean the world to me, are completely free, and show your support to my journey through pain of suffering.

There was only one way to live in Prince Clay's eyes.

Live every moment to the fullest, and don't let anybody else stop you. If they try, throw them a witty remark then keep walking.

It wasn't like there were that many people that could stand up to him though. With his status as the Crown Prince of The Lenient Providence, the only people who could tell him to shut up were kings and queens.

Nobody knew where his rebellious and playful nature came from though. But many came up with the theory that it was because the boy was the incarnation of Mori, the God of Death.

Every thousand years, a person of royal blood would become the incarnation of a god. How many people became an incarnation, or who the god was, depended all on the wheel of fate. The incarnation would usually inherit a drop of a God's power, and also their personality.

The God of Death, or Mori, was a quite playful being. She was constantly messing around with human affairs and didn't care if she stirred up trouble. After all, she was a god. And at that, an important god as well.

But the details didn't matter.

What did matter though, was that on their 17th Birthday, the incarnation would receive a prophecy that was specifically tailored to them. The prophecy could be anything, with any amount of people, and any amount of circumstances.

And today was Clay Villareal's 17th birthday.

_On the other side of the coin though..._

There was only one way to live in Prince George's eyes.

One had to stay in line, and live in the future, the past, and the present at the same time.

You had to be careful of everything. If you weren't careful, you made mistakes. Mistakes made you flawed. And if you were flawed, you were weak.

George Davidson had a set mindset and a strict life. He was a revered prince for his looks and brilliant strategy. It was a shame that he was only the Third Prince of the Malign Kingdom though.

But being the incarnation of Vita, the God of Life, made up wonderfully for this.

Vita was a reserved god that took her role quite seriously. She was warm and kind to all life but kept a cold and stoic front at all times.

Blessed with powerful magic, good looks, and a brilliant mind, George had it all. And he worked hard to keep it that way.

But there was one flaw he had.

The only thing that could break George's public persona that he had built up...was Clay Villareal of the neighboring kingdom.

The brunet hated every little thing of the other prince. While George worked hard for everything he had, the Crown Prince simply had everything fell in his lap. Even though he was "Lazy" and "A disgust of a human being" (George often used the words to explain the other prince), the prince was still revered for traits he didn't even have and was more loved than Prince George.

Even Vita carried the same hate for the other prince, but that must've been because Clay was the incarnation of her arch-nemesis. 

It was pretty self-explanatory why the God of Life hated the God of Death and vice versa. 

So it wasn't a surprise to the public that the two became rivals, enemies, even, at first sight.

With this info, you would probably believe how 'Estatic' George was to hear the news of Clay's birthday. And even more, his Prophecy ceremony. The brunet had his own birthday a few months ago, but a prophecy was never bestowed to him...strangely enough.

The brunet was furious though to learn that he would have to participate in the occasion. Even when his parents said it was supposed to be a diplomatic courtesy, George was still brimming with fury.

But the prince never had a choice in the matter either way.

**+========= ✻ ==========+**

In the cold crisp morning of the Lenient Providence, a handsome blond stood on the grounds of the impervious castle. 

His emerald green eyes surveyed the bright red targets on the other side of the archery area. Slowly reaching over his shoulder, his scarred fingers grazed over an arrow in the quiver that was slung over his back.

The blond's deep breathing caused precipitation in the frigid air as his fingers carefully ran over the small feather of an arrow. Drawing said arrow from his old and battered quiver, he took a moment to nock the arrow into the large longbow he held. Carefully, he drew the bowstring back with the arrow. Keeping his stance still and firm, Clay calmed his nerves as he released the arrow.

The arrow made a beautiful arc in the air before finding itself in the bullseye of the target easily with a satisfying thunk. Letting out a small breath of relief, the boy let his hand fall to his side as he grinned triumphantly. 

"Good past the early dawn, Prince Clay. Your archery skills seemed to have become refined greatly in the past week"

The blond spun around quickly before his shoulders relaxed at the sight of his friend. 

"Nick! Why are you up so early?" Clay cried out merrily as he tilted his head. 

The Caucasian male before him rolled his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in his armor. The male's white bandana twirled in the wind behind him as Nick snorted softly to himself.

"I should be asking _you_ that. You rather hibernate through spring and summer than become an early bird"

The blond waved his hand dismissively as he turned back to the targets across the field. "Shove off, 'Sir Sapnap'. And who wouldn't be excited in my spot?" Clay murmured as he rolled his shoulders, slipping off his leather archer tab.

"Perhaps Prince-" 

Clay silenced the other with a glare as he brushed off the dirt on his emerald green cloak. 

"Yeah. Everyone except that uptight jerk" The blond huffed as he slung his bow over his shoulder. Nick muttered something under his breath before joining the prince's side, his armor clinking with every step he took.

Nick took the lead as he kept an indifferent expression. "C'mon now, let's get you cleaned up so you don't look like a peasant at your birthday. Oh and...you forgot this" Nick stopped in his tracks, almost causing Clay to crash into him. The ravenette turned around as he handed the other male a porcelain mask.

The object seemed to be worn down from time, with random scratches and dents all over the mask. The black paint that made a smiley face on it chipping off.

"Don't want any maidens 'falling in love with you at first sight' now do you, egotistical bastard?" Nick shoved the object into the blond's chest before walking towards the castle, leaving Clay behind.

The boy rolled his eyes before running a hand through his blond hair nervously.

_He had never really thought out this day._

**+========= ✻ ==========+**

"I will tie you to that godforsaken carriage seat if you don't QUIET DOWN, you muffin head!"

George begrudgingly shut his mouth as he scrunched up his nose.

Prince George and Sir Darryl were currently on their carriage ride to the Lenient Providence. Darryl had estimated that it would be at least one more hour until they made it to their destination. George had turned what would be a nice and calm ride to an annoyance though with his constant complaining of going to the Lenient Providence and declaring his hatred for Prince Clay every five minutes.

"Remember your royal highness! You need to maintain your persona or you'll-" Darryl was about to finish his sentence before George interrupted.

"Or else I'll turn my family into a laughing stock and be ridiculed across the kingdoms, yadda, yadda" George muttered as he crossed his arms, trying to calm himself.

Darryl stared for a moment at the somewhat coltish young man. The brunet had a good figure but looked more feminine looking. Even though at first sight he looked like he could be pushed over by just the wind, he was quite adept with weapons and magic and wouldn't be easily defeated.

And though most if not all woman George's age would dote on him like a small child, the brunet was still quite a looker.

Darryl took a deep breath as he looked out of the window. "Please don't anger the other prince. The king and queen rather not make an enemy of the Lenient Providence. After all, they are quite proficient in magic"

The prince grunted in response, gripping the hilt of his sword firmly as he bit his bottom lip. At the action, small daises seem to bloom from the crevices of his locks.

It was a quirk the brunet had. Even though he was quite a prodigy in magic, there was one thing the boy couldn't stop doing. Whenever he felt extreme emotions, flowers would bloom in his hair. The courtiers and The Queen of Malign, or George's mother, thought the thing was adorable while George despised it with all of his soul.

**_"You need to relax. If you aren't calm you can't perform at the best of your ability"_ **

As the soft, river-like voice, filled his mind, George relaxed a bit. He broke into a soft smile as the calming scent of lavender wafted through the air.

"Yeah...thank you, Vita" George murmured under his breath to himself. As he felt a soft warmth filled his chest, he knew the god was satisfied.

**. . . . .**

George clutched the hilt of his sword as he stood on the side of the ballroom. He hated being on unfamiliar territory. The brunet always felt so...restless.

At least he didn't have to wear that god damn fancy clothing, instead opting for his simpler yet still expensive attire. 

Silently fidgeting with the drawstring of his blue and gold cloak, he awkwardly held the goblet of water in his hands. George watched the other nobles and royalty dance in the middle of the quite large and luxurious ballroom, they were so elegant and well...formal, that the brunet cracked a small smile.

George's smile instantly fell though as he spotted the flourish of green from the corner of his eyes.

_Ah, there's the cunt._

Walking to a nearby table, he placed down the silver goblet as he tried to ignore the sound of footsteps drumming in his ears.

The brunet took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes tight, trying to stop himself from lashing out suddenly. George carefully held both of his hands to his chest as his left hand drew circles in his right hand. He prayed that the blond would just pass by, so he wouldn't have to deal with that walking hot mess.

Vita was currently screaming out in anger, probably because Mori was in her presence.

 _ **"LET ME AT HER-"**_ Vita cried out in his mind. George lightly winced, spotting the wispy figure of a beautiful pheasant on his shoulder who looked pissed as hell

Gods would usually not show up on the mortal plane, so they would send down a Phantom Form down instead. In their Phantom Form, they couldn't interact with anything but could reveal themselves and talk to things/people if they wanted to. Usually, only their incarnations could see the gods in Phantom Form.

"Prince George"

The brunet spun around quickly, the boy tilting his head up to stare at that god damn smiley face.

As his gaze traced the rough edges of the mask for a split moment, George grimaced at the sight of the broad figure before him.

"Prince Clay...good past the evening sun. It's an... _honor_...to see you here" 

**+========= ✻ ==========+**

Clay stared down at doe-eye brunet who was a head shorter than him. If the blond didn't know better, he would call Prince George "beautiful".

As the blond glared at the other royal, his lips drew back in a snarl "Look what the cat dragged in..." Clay gripped the hilt of his sword as he gave a strained smile to the shorter.

"And look at what the dog threw up" George retorted as he narrowed his eyes coldly at the other.

Even when the brunet seemed like he was in a good mood, the boy looked one moment away from strangling Clay. He supposed it just came with the rest of the prince's "charms".

 _ **"Who knew that such a compassionate god could be so cold,"**_ Mori said suddenly with a snort. The blond shrugged as he peered down at the wispy black cat at his feet.

The prince shook his head softly before sighing.

"May I have this dance, Prince George?" Clay said begrudgingly as he held out his scarred hand.

The brunet raised an eyebrow as he cast a glance between the taller's hand and his eyes. As he opened his mouth to say something, a thought suddenly flashed across the shorter's face.

Clay paused, smelling the light scent of lavender in the air as a small daisy fell from George's hair. 

_He must be talking to Vita._

Mori rolled her eyes in Phantom Form, clambering onto the top of the prince's head before sitting in the middle of his golden crown. _**"You know, if his God weren't my mortal enemy then I would've let you fuck him"**_

Clay visibly flinched before inwardly groaning again.

_How many times do I have to tell you? I still hate him with or without Vita._

_**"You can still 'hate fuck' him-"** _

_No. This conversation is over now, Mori._

Clay snapped out of the trance as he heard George sigh audibly. "Fine. I'll take you up on your offer" George muttered reluctantly as he took the other's hand tentatively. 

Surprisingly, the other's hand was freezing cold, yet very soft. The blond scoffed internally before whisking the other royal into the middle of the ballroom. The other nobles disappeared from the dance floor, making room for the two princes. The music that once filled the ballroom paused.

As the two princes took a step away from each other, the two boys made a delicate bow towards the other one before waiting. As the music started again, the blond took a step towards George, the brunet mirroring the action. 

The two royals circled each other for a moment before Clay placed one of his hands on the small of George's back. The brunet in return placed a hand on the taller's shoulder. The blond paused, sharing a look with the shorter before they both reluctantly connected their free hands. Clay acted as the lead and George acted as the follow (begrudgingly), the two seemingly floating around the dance floor, the crowd murmuring to each other silently.

As the blond guided the other around the ballroom, their feet perfectly synced with the soft music, the two royals both silently glared at each other.

"I know we are supposed to be diplomatic around each other, but don't you think this is overkill" George snapped in a hushed voice.

Clay rolled his eyes. "You think I want to do this? I much rather dance with your sister than this" The blond continued to guide the other around the ballroom, George allowing the other to do so.

"Than why are you here, with _me_ , instead then?"

"The Queen of The Lenient Providence. She was hoping that for once we could drop the tense atmosphere around us for the public" Clay replied silently said to the other.

George scrunched up his nose. "Isn't she worried about what the nobles think? On the dance floor, it's a female partner for a male partner and a male partner for a female one. Same gender-" The brunet was about to finish before Clay silenced him with a glare.

"Yeah, I know that. But unlike you, my mother and I are not obsessed with how others perceive us." Clay muttered to the other. "If you don't like how this will affect your public figure then you can leave, _Prince George_ "

The brunet scoffed as he once again quieted down. No more words were exchanged between the two, a tense atmosphere once again filling the area between the two royals. Their dance did not betray their true feelings though, Clay successfully guiding the other around, and George following the other through moves smoothly.

As the music finished, the two princes eagerly broke away from each other. The two shared a look before the crowd burst into applause, once again flooding the dance floor. As George started to storm off, the brunet turned around to give the blond a harsh glare through the crowd.

Clay returned the glare before internally sighing. 

Nothing would change between the two if they both didn't try. Fortunately, though, neither wanted to. They were fine with exchanging glares across the room and constant insults.

As the two stared at each other, they both thought the same thing simultaneously.

_A shame that such a cute face is wasted on such a bastard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +========= ✻ ==========+ means pov change  
> . . . . . means time skip


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOO, Finally. Another chapter amirite.
> 
> The story is gonna progress a bit weirdly...for a hot second
> 
> While you're still here, please leave a kudos or a comment, it's completely free and helps us authors a shit ton.

When the dance finished, Prince George felt an emotion boil under his skin. 

Anger...preferably.

The royal did his best to stay casual as he stormed off, nobles once again filing into the dance floor as the two Prince's finished their waltz. The brunet kept a firm grip on the hilt of his sword, his boots squeaking on the ballroom floor silently.

Sir Bad, or Darryl, stumbled after the prince. The Knight pushed past nobles and other people, garbled words of apologies falling from his mouth, a worried line etched into his face.

"Y-Your Highness! Wait up...please!" Darryl squeaked, the dirty blond continuing to lose his footing frequently. 

George didn't pay attention. He just wasn't in a good mood to deal with his knight. Sure, the two were quite good friends, but Darryl's words of encouragement and placating phrases were heavily not needed. The Prince needed to cool off on his own.

"U-um...I thought your majesty looked quite good with-" Darryl was starting to say before the brunet cast over a cold glare to the male. The Knight immediately stopped in his tracks as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

 _ **"The waltz was fine. Mori wasn't though"**_ The pheasant muttered, finally speaking up. George spared a glance at the inky bird on his shoulder before shaking his head softly.

Through the whole waltz, George caught glimpses of Vita glaring at something. It was a high chance that it was probably Mori she was glaring at, George realized.

"When can we leave this damned party?" The brunet said coldly. The question was directed to Darryl, who had somehow made it to the Prince's side.

"We'll have to wait...the King of the Lenient Providence has set up a meeting." The knight paused, looking around quickly before leaning towards George and saying in a hushed voice, "Probably Prince Clay's prophecy ceremony"

The brunet sighed, looking through the crowd as he spotted that damned green cape.

" _For the love of the gods_...well then I suppose we really do have to stay," George said gruffly before turning to Darryl.

"I'll be in the royal garden then"

Darryl nodded quickly before spotting a person in the crowd of nobles. His expression seemed to light up like the sun before the dirty blond darted away. George smiled, somewhat amused before making his way to of the castle. 

_**"...you're not gonna order him to come with you?"** _

George hummed silently, his deep brown eyes scanning the crowd. 

"Relax Vita...we both know that I can protect myself in my own way," George said, getting an eye roll from the god.

The prince and his god became silent as he walked out of the castle gates. Casting a look around the place, the brunet walked around the castle before finally arriving at a beautiful garden.

George sighed, cracking a genuine smile, walking over a bench that was in the middle of all the flowers. He was careful to not step on any of the flowers.

Prince George gave a silent sigh as he sat on the stone bench among all the roses. The royal's eyes carefully took in his surroundings of the flower garden.

This was one thing the brunet could give a nod of respect for the jackass's kingdom. Their flora and fauna were exquisite, which was endearing to the incarnation of the God of Life. Though the God of Life ruled over things that all lived technically, George felt the most connection to plants.

Though Vita never explained this, George had a few theories.

_**"You should practice your magic"** _

The royal hummed, glancing over to the wispy form of the pheasant. 

"Wouldn't that be disrespectful? Tearing up the palace's garden?" George mused.

 _ **"Eh...I wouldn't say tearing it up, but more like...improving"**_ Vita said carefully, casting a look at a nearby rose. The pheasant raised one of its feet, point a talon to the brilliant red flower.

_**"Just practice on one flower"** _

George blinked. "What do you want me to do?"

_**"...be creative I suppose"**_

The brunet rolled his eyes before walking over to the rose. The royal examined the red flower before cupping the petals gently in his palms, George hummed for a moment before staring at the flower intensely.

The rose shivered as it glowed a warm gold, the rose seamlessly retreating into a bud. George frowned for a moment before switching over to a grin immediately.

The thorned flower shivered once again in its bud state before its petals unfurled, a pink light spilling out from it. The flower seemed to grow twice its original size, gold stripes spiraling on the inside of the red petals.

 _ **"...Hmm...I suppose that works to"**_ Vita muttered to herself. The brunet looked happy with himself before his hand shot towards the hilt of his sword, George tensing up instantly. The prince scanned his surroundings, biting the inside of his cheek.

The ghostly pheasant frowned (somehow) before cooing softly. _**"You heard it as well?"**_

George gave a sharp nod, small daises starting to bloom in the crevices of his brown hair.

_Someone was watching them._

**_"It's strange...their soul kinda smells like Mori's"_** Vita muttered to herself. George raised an eyebrow at the god's comment before shaking his head.

George's eyes widened though as he heard the sound of leaves rustling. Spinning around, a dark figure lunged towards the prince, the brunet was unable to see the features or comprehend who the intruder was in the spur of the moment.

The male quickly unsheathed his sword, raising it in the air. The sound of metal rang out in the air as their weapons clashed.

The figure recoiled back from the impact, staggering back. They recovered quickly though, their saber once again raised. George narrowed his eyes, his white knuckle grip on his sword showing no signs of ceasing.

Just as he was about to say something, the enemy shot forward once again, sending a rough slash down with their blade. The brunet was caught off guard and tried to evade the vertical cut by stepping backward. The intruder responded to the action by throwing a thrust with their saber. 

George's eyes widened in fear, the silver saber grazing his side. The prince was inwardly ruffled by this encounter, as he had never been locked in a fight such as this. After all, everything was easier when everyone let you win.

The royal let out a yelp. The intruder took advantage immediately, sweeping out their foot, causing George to lose balance and fall. The boy's long sword fell from his hand with a clatter, George looking up at his opponent with pure fear. The prince could feel the thorns of the nearby roses digging uncomfortably into his skin.

 _ **"USE YOUR DAMNED MAGIC!!"**_ Vita called out from the other side of the bushes. The pheasant sounded annoyed more than anything.

George seized up before throwing his hands out, the prince still shaking somewhat as his palms became a warm gold. The Brunet paused before the rose petals around them glowed blue. The petals detached themself from the stem, floating to the ground for a moment before seemingly shooting towards the intruder. The flower petals were almost razor-sharp, with multiple scratches appearing on the figure instantly.

Taking the chance while the person was still distracted, the prince stood up and bolted away. Letting his feet carry him like the wind, George looked back for a single second. 

The intruder seemed unaffected by the attack, their eyes on the blood that ran down the thorns of the nearby roses.

The brunet shivered before continuing to run.

_What the fuck?_

**+========= ✻ ==========+**

Clay cast a look at the empty ballroom, the blond letting out a sigh of relief as he slumped against the large wall. His emerald eyes watched the beautiful chandelier that hung over the large room, a small hum escaping the royal.

As his gaze traced the intricate design on the ceiling, Clay became alert as he heard the sound of footsteps. Turning to the noise, he gave a strained smile as his fingers danced around the hilt of his sword.

"...Father," Clay said, dipping his head in respect as he watched the older man before him carefully. The King hummed for a moment before beckoning the blond to his side, Clay walking over to the man reluctantly.

"As you know Clay...today will be your prophecy ceremony. The Oracle should be bestowing you your prophecy...hopefully, one that will make you use your powers for the greater good" The older man said gruffly as he folded his hands behind the small of his back. Slowly, he walked out of the ballroom and down the corridor. The blond paused before sighing as he quickly followed after his father.

'For the greater good' was probably coming from the paranoid side of the old man. The King had always viewed Clay as 'unlucky'. After all, the man saw being the incarnation of the God of Death as a bad sign for Clay's future.

The blond didn't blame his father for it though, it was rational to believe that Clay would have a rotten future. Distrust always followed him since Black Magic was an underline of Mori. And Black Magic and royals never mixed well...

Clay lightly shook the thought away, his eyes focused on the velvet red cloak of his father's.

After a quaint moment of silence between the two, Clay finally broke as he let out an audible sigh. 

"Father. I must ask...why did you invite Prince George?" Clay said quickly in almost an awkward manner.

The older male stayed silent for a second as he kept walking with his usual air of confidence. 

"The Oracle had requested his presence. Not me"

Clay blinked. "O-Oh..." 

A thought slowly dawned on the blond, his eyes widening before he shook himself out of it. 

_No...hopefully not._

**_"Well...there's always an 'if'-"_** Mori started to say, the wispy black cat weaving between the prince's feet. 

"Please...don't," Clay hissed in a hushed voice, hopeful that his father hadn't heard him.

Mori rolled her eyes dramatically. _**"Just want you to know, so you won't be as pissed if he does happen to be part of your weird-ass prophecy"**_

" _If_ ", Clay repeated to himself under his breath.

The more he thought of it, the stranger the possibility got. Maybe the reason Prince George hadn't got his prophecy was that he shared one? But that wouldn't make sense since wouldn't the Oracle tell the prophecy to the brunet either way?

After all, there were plenty of group prophecies, and in that case, everyone in the said group got that prophecy. It just didn't make sense to Clay.

The wispy black cat suddenly stopped in her tracks. The animal narrowed her eyes as she flicked her tail.

_**"Seems like something happened in the garden."** _

At Mori's words, Clay immediately tensed up, the prince going on guard. The cat meowed in amusement as she continued to walk with Clay.

 _ **"Past tense my dear prince. You shouldn't be worried, it's probably already taken care of"**_ Mori said in her playful manner.

"I still don't trust it one bit" 

The King glanced at his son indifferently before returning his gaze to the ground before him. "I...hope you do see how proud I am of...you. Even compared to the neighboring kingdom's Third Prince" He said in a reluctant tone.

The blond raised an eyebrow before sighing. "You should stop passing messages on from _mother_ "

"They're my words, son"

"Yet they hold no meaning," Clay said stiffly. The blond's father gave an audible sigh before shaking his head softly.

"I'm trying, Clay. Yet you're always so adamant to believe that I would throw you away at any moment" 

Clay rolled his eyes, "Because it's the truth. I can tell you would rather place my sister on the throne than my _useless_ self"

"We both know that isn't possible" The King hissed.

Clay shrugged, a permanent sheepish smile on his face. Mori rolled her eyes, the cat looking unimpressed.

 _ **"If I knew that my incarnation would have daddy issues I would've stayed on the higher plane"**_ Mori muttered.

If the cat wasn't a literal ghost, Clay would've drop-kicked the cat right there and then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fight scenes is so hard.


End file.
